PS 

Co) HOMERIC 
SCENES 

HECTOR'S FAREWELL AND THE 
WRATH OF ACPilLLES 



BY 
lOHN JAY CHAPMAN 





Class — -^^^VX^T. 
Book___!_C_JUi4 



COFWIGHT DEPOSIT 



HOMERIC SCENES 



HOMERIC 
SCENES 

HECTOR'S FAREWELL AND THE 
WRATH OF ACHILLES 

BY 
JOHN TAY CHAPMAN 




NEW YORK 

LAURENCE'T' GOMlvIE 
1914 






Copyright, 1914, by Laurence J, Gomme 



DEC 30 1914 

©CI,A388997 



=^ CONTENTS 



I. 

PAGE 

HECTOR'S FAREWELL . . . . .7 



11. 

THE WRATH OF ACHILLES .... 15 

l-THE EMBASSY OF ACHILLES, IN TWO SCENES . . 17 

2-THE DEATH OF PATROCLUS, AND THE NEW ARMOR . 82 

8-THERSITES ON THE GREAT RECONCILIATION . . 45 

4-THE DEATH OF HECTOR, AND THE SACRIFICE OF LYKAON 51 

5-THE GHOST OF PATROCLUS: PRIAM AND ACHILLES . 64 

6-THETIS SPEAKS 75 



DRAMATIS PERSONJ] 

Hector. Son to Priam, King of Troy and leader of 
the Trojan Army, 

Andromache. Wife to Hector. 

Paris. Younger brother to Hector and husband to 
Helen of Troy, 

Priam. King of Troy. 

Achilles. The greatest warrior among the Greeks. 

Patroclus. Friend to Achilles. 

Agamemnon . King of A rgos and leader of the Greek 
Army. 

Odysseus 

Nestor 

Ajax 

Phoenix 

Antilochus. a Greek soldier. 

Thersites. a boorish Greek campfollower. 

Lykaon. a captured lad, son to King Priam. 

Automedon. Servant to Achilles. 

Briseis. a captured Phrygian maid, slave to 
Achilles. 

Soldiers, messengers, heralds, etc. 
Scenes: Troy and the Greek camp. 



Captains of the Greek Army. 



I. 

HECTOR'S FAREWELL 



HECTOE'S FAREWELL 

Scene. On the Walls of Troy. 

Enter andromache followed by a nurse 
carrying a child. 

ANDRO. Nurse he is not here ! Set down 

the child 
And run to find my Hector. Go, girl, go ! 
Hector is in the town. Hector in Troy 
And I not see him ! I have run about 
Like a mad woman. Everyone but me 
Has seen my Hector, Gyas on the wall 
And Androcleides in the market-place. 
And Phene from the casement of the 

palace, — 
Saw the great helm go dancing up the street 
With Mars behind it. Wherefore leave the 

fields 
Except to see his wife? Nurse, he's dead! 
And these be shadows sent to warn the 

world 
And kill me ere the sight of his dead 

corse — 
{Enter hector) Hector! 



8 HOMERIC SCENES 

HECTOR. Sweetheart, I could not find thee 

at the house. 
Nay, ^tis not yet so bad. What, never a 

word? 

ANDRO. I dreamed that you were dead. 

HECTOR. Dreams are but dreams 

And phantoms phantoms. I have dreamed 

myself 
Sometimes — 

ANDRO. Why came you not directly to the 
palace? 

HECTOR. Business of War. Our Paris does 

not fight ; 
But lolls in Helen's parlors all day long, 
Examining his arms. The golden spoil 
Of blazoned armor more delights his heart 
Than reeky war. 

ANDRo. The coward 1 

HECTOR. Say not so. 

He fears not death, but fears to spoil his 
locks. 

{The Nurse offers the child to hector; 
but the child clings and turns away.) 

ANDRO. It is the crested terror of thy 
casque. 



HECTOR'S FAREWELL 

Doff thy great helm, my warrior ; come, my 

boy, 
Hector's thy father. 
In years to come thou 'It know it. 

{To hector) Set it down 

And bless the urchin with a man's embrace 
Before you plunge into the tide of war. 

(hector sets the helmet on the ground, 
embraces the child silently, sets him on the 
ground also. The child occupies himself, 
with the helmet.) 

hector. 'Tis little for myself 

I dread in Hades, where the demi-gods 
Greet the last comer from the bloody field 
With hands that heal his gashes, — add a 

name 
To the old heroes. They await me there, 
I know't. But thee, Andromache, but thee ! 
To see thee carted as the spoil of war 
And set to spin in Argos, — all day long 
Tending the loom, or with unwilling hands 
Fetching the jug of water from some 

spring 
In far Arcadia. ' ' Mark yon Trojan slave ' ' 
Says someone, " 'Tis the wife of Plumed 

Hector, 



10 HOMERIC SCENES 

Who fought in bygone days for bygone 

Troy." 
This is thy portion when, deprived of me, 
Thou fendest for thyself in slavery. 
But as for me, the blessed soil of earth 
Shall wrap me round before I learn of it. 

ANDRo. Bring not a dismal future into 

life 
By horrid prophecies. My dream was false 
And, haply, so is thine. I have thee still ; 
Troy stands, the gods assist ; 
And our unceasing supplications rise 
In all the temples. 

{Enter servant ivith a golden cup.) 

Sirrah, what is this? 
SERVANT. The Queen, Lord Hector's 

mother, Hecuba, 
Sends him a cup of sacrificial wine ; 
That having poured to the immortal gods 
Libations of effectual piety 
He may refresh him with a needed 

draught. 
For he exhausts himself to save the rest; 
And wine doth bless a tired hero's heart. 

HECTOR. Tell my fond mother that the 
honeyed wine 



HECTOR'S FAREWELL 11 

Would but unnerve me. Nor with hands 

unwashed 
Dare I to pour libations unto Zeus. 
I cannot pray to Kronos' Cloudy Son 
While spattered with the dirty blood of 

war. 
But let the Queen besiege Athena's Might 
With fragrant, hotly-burning holocausts, 
If haply ruth may touch the goddess' heart 
For Troy, for Trojan wives and Trojan 

babes. 
And she avert the doom. {Exit servant.) 

Enough of grief! 
All's well. Come youngster mine, another 

prayer : — 
To Zeus and all the gods ! 

{Takes the child and holds him high in 
air.) 
May'st thou grow great, to be the boast of 

Troy,— 
Like Hector's self ;^ — to rule o'er Ilion 
In pride of might and virtue, till they cry 
^^He's better than his Father!" So they 

shall. 
When thou art tramping home with bloody 

spoil 
Man-killed in war, — to make a mother 

glad. 



12 HOMERIC SCENES 

ANDRO. Alas, sweet husband, you do kill 

the child. 
He^s lost in thee with wonder. 

HECTOR. Darling heart, 

I must be gone. One smiling hug the more. 
Andromache, my sweetheart, be not sad; 
Save by the hand of Fate I cannot fall. 
Hero and coward enter Hades' Gate 
Through the same deathless, shunless Des- 
tiny,— 
Apportioned and decreed. My blessed 

wife. 
Go to thy house and distaff: at the looms 
Set maids to weaving. War's for warriors. 
And my employment is to fight for Troy. 
(Enter servant.) 

SERVANT. Paris, my lord, doth seek thee. 

HECTOR. Let him come. 

SERVANT. He hath o 'er all the city coursed 
about. 

HECTOR. I warrant, hath he ! Like a stall- 
fed horse. 
Breaking his bridle, trusting in his heels 
With head up-reared and mane that fans 
his flank. 



HECTOR'S FAREWELL 13 

He courses to the flowing river-pools. 
With sure and easy strength the springy 

loins 
XJp-bear him toward the pasture of the 

steeds. 
So Paris, in bright armor like a sun 
Runs, glittering through the town. I wager 

now 
He comes to taunt me that I hinder him, 
And keep him from the fray. (Enter paris.) 

PARIS. Good brother, thou art valiant. 

None can deny thy courage. Tis thy whim 
If thou dost linger here while alPs at stake. 
Is it my dallying that holds thee back! 

HECTOR. On, brother Paris! — All our 

wordy scores 
WeUl settle when Zeus smiles, bidding us 

rest 
And drain our Cup of Safety to the gods. 
What time we drive the Achaians out of 

Troy. 

(Exeunt hector and paris.) 

ANDRO. He's gone. — Come, child; he's 

gone. 
Hector's farewell is over: he is gone! 



14 HOMERIC SCENES 

He's for his death — and never shall I see 
The helmet, hear the voice or feel the hand 
Of my great hero more. He's gone ! 
A clank of mailed feet shall herald him 
Bearing his body. Nurse, he's gone. 
My Hector's gone. He's gone! 

End 



n. 

THE WEATH OF ACHILLES 



THE WEATH OF ACHILLES 

1. The Embassy to Achilles. 

Scene I. Before the Tent of agamem- 
NON. {Enter odysseus and nestok. odys- 
sEus carries a lantern.) 

ODYSSEUS {knocking) . Lord of the Host! 
Atreides! Agamemnon! 

AGAMEMNON {witMn) . Who calls? 

NESTOE. Greeks and thy friends. A parley. 

{Enter agamemnon) 

AGAMEMNON. Odysseus, many - minded 

counsellor, 
And thou, old Nestor ! But what would ye 

here? 

ODYSSEUS. We could not sleep. 

AGAMEMNON. Nor I ; but stark upright 

I wait the daylight's trembling. Have ye 
news ? 

ODYSSEUS. Nay, 'tis the best we have that 
we have none. 



18 HOMERIC SCENES 

The cry we dread is *' Hector and the 

torch!'' 
Our ships in flames and we in blinding 

smoke 
With Hector, like a wolf upon our fold, 
To rend the bleating fugitives of Greece 
While we run seaward ! 

AGAMEMNON. Hcctor's a deity. 

ODYSSEUS. A god's behind him: 'tis for 

that we come. 
AGAMEMNON. What god? How mean you? 

Speak no riddles, man ; 
The time for wit is past. 

ODYSSEUS. 0, Atreus' son. 

Where force hath failed the time for wit is 

come. 
Thou lumbering king of men, assume thy 

mind. 
For bluster is blown out. 

AGAMEMNON. I am the King! 

ODYSSEUS. And we poor subjects come to 

hint a tale 
Of dark injustice,^ — punished by a god. 

AGAMEMNON. AcMllcS ! 

ODYSSEUS. Ay, Achilles in his tent. 



THE WRATH OF AOHILXrES 19^ 

Achilles, our great warrior, Thetis' son, 

Godlike, invincible, the Wrath of Greece, 

The man among our pigmies, mourns 
apart. 

And through his prayers destroys us. Aga- 
memnon, 

Bethink thee who it was that seized his 
bride, 

Briseis, whom his shining spear had 
reaped. 

His war-won bride thou tookest to thy tent. 

AGAMEMNON. 'Tis false, Odysseus! By 

the throne of Zeus ! 
I but assigned her — 

ODYSSEUS. Reassigned, my lord; 

For first thou didst assign her unto him. 
And the retaking wrought such heat in him 
As kindled fire-born vengeance in the god. 
Who now, descending in a lambent tongue. 
Licks at thy camp and army. That great 

hurt 
Entered his bosom. Like a noble hound, 
Whom some unwitting master hath mis- 
used. 
He grieves to the quick. 

NESTOB. Achilles in his tent 

Handles the glorious lyre, bridged with gold 



20 HOMERIC SCENES 

The same that in the sack of Etiona 
He chose from out the spoil. The warrior 
Now charms his heart-ache with a melody — 
Sings to his thought some old heroic lay. 
Patroclus sits the while in silent grief 
Attendant on his master's bitter mood. 

AGAMEMNON. And what is this to me? He 

hath his whim 
And, when the fancy seizes him, will fight; 
Yea, till it do, not all Odysseus' wit 
Can budge him from his grievance and his 

dream. 
Cunning were wasted here. 

ODYSSEUS. Not time for wit? 

Thou senseless Agamemnon, all's at stake 
And thy unyielding heart, blind as the 
mole. 

AGAMEMNON. What say'st thou? 
ODYSSEUS. Thy injustice is the cause 

That launched the angered Deity at 

Greece. 
Yea, thou art numb with fateful insolence. 
Wake ! or we perish. 

AGAMEMNON. Comradc, I have sinned? 

By folly or self-will? 

ODYSSEUS. Ay, there's the point. 



THE WRATH OF AOHUJLES 21 

Injustice, — ^winged madness is let loose, 
And fate doth clutch thee. 

AGAMEMNON. Let amends be made : 

Seven tripods that no touch of flame have 

felt. 
As many talents of refined gold. 
My horses swift — the fleet-foot champions ! 
If his appeasement lie within my gift 
He shall not go unheaped with spoil of 

war. 
And for the maid Briseis, send her back 
Accompanied by cunning needle maids — 
The same I took at Lesbos — seven they 

are — 
The fairest women ever found in Greece. 
And add what promised plunder out of 

Troy 
With twenty slaves from Helen's bed- 
chamber. 
And what of wealth he wills. Yea, let him 

ask 
A slice of Argos. He shall wed my girl 
And half my kingdom go along with her. 

ODYSSEUS. Is it thy will, thou tower of 

Atreus' might. 
We bear this message to him? 

AGAMEMNON. Go at OUCe. 



22 HOMERIC SCENES 

ODYSSEUS. What say you, Nestor I 

NESTOB. Age and skill together 

May soothe the yeasty boy. But give me 

leave 
As one who knew his father and that race 
Of demi-gods, now scattered and obscured, 
Of whom there shines some glint in this 

young man. 
All must be gently done. If Phoenix, now, 
Old Phoenix who was young Achilles' 

nurse — 
Phoenix has held Achilles in his arms. 
Of none but Phoenix would he take his 

food — 
(And give it back at times on Phoenix' 

tunic!) 
Phoenix must go — and let two heralds 

lead — 
And Ajax whom the great Achilles loves. 
My lords, I think with such an embassy 
We may engage our erring hero's mind. 

AGAMEMNON. Let it bc douc ! And add 

what words ye will 
Of Agamemnon's not unkingly ruth. 
Mine is the sceptre, mine the kingly race. 
And be the message spoken, — from the 

King. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 23 

The Embassy to Achilles 

Scene II. Before achilles' Tent. 

( ACHILLES; with a lyre in his hand, sits 
upon piles of skins and rugs, patroclus 
sits before him.) 

ACHILLES. Such was the lay, Patroclus. — 
Stay, the epilogue ! 

To Heracles was given 
Long labor and the after life of Heaven. 

To me, — 
A breath of life : then immortality. 

'Tis they that rule us, those old demi-gods, 
Patroclus ; and the gests of Heracles — 
Sung o'er our cradles, — build our monu- 
ments. 
The myths possess us : through our agony 
They work to new fruition. 

PATROCLUS. (pause) They were men. 

ACHILLES. Yes, men, and something more. 

PATROCLUS. Footsteps, my lord. 



24 HOMERIC SCENES 

{Two heralds enter and stand aside; 
then ODYSSEUS and nestor; then phoenix 
and AJAX. ACHILLES and patroclus rise me- 
chanically. ACHILLES still holding the lyre, 
looks from one to another of the visitors.) 

ACHILLES. Welcome, good friends — 

And I myself unhinged — My dearest 

friends, — 
Welcome to all. {To patroclus) Get wine: 

let bread be brought, 
And lay the feast. 

ODYSSEUS. A cup of greeting, Sir, 

With but a splash to reconcile the gods. 

{A servant hands goblets.) 

To Zeus and all the deities above ! 

Achilles' friends 

Pledge the bright hope of Hellas. 

{They drink) Nay, no more. 

We come not for a banquet; but in haste. 

In need, at night, in fear, as suppliants. 

Our camp's a jail. The Greeks are prison- 
ers; 

And Hector, clad in fury, rages nigh 

To burn the ships. This night decides the 
war. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILiLES 25 

Wilt thou put on the terror of thy strength 
And let displeasure go? The doom once 

done, 
Thyself shall grieve the deepest in the end. 
Think, while sweet ruth permit thee ! My 

dear lord, 
Thy father, on the day he shipped thee 

forth, 
Added a counsel ''Hera and Athene 
Have made thee mighty: thou thyself 

must quell 
The tempest of thy hearf 
Thy griefs I'll not disparage: keep thy 

hate 
For the Atreidae; they have done thee 

wrong 
Shameworthy to themselves rather than 

thee. 
But think of Hellas, — comrades done to 

death, 
Achaia's cause in timeless ruin sunk, 
And what disgrace eternally shall hang 
On every boastful Greek that steered for 

Troy. 
Gifts have we brought, the gold and silver 

wreck 
Of many cities, — promises of more 



26 HOMERIC SCENES 

When Troy is mastered. And, the cause 

of all, 
Briseis, the bright daughter of thy spear 
Waits by the tent without — 

(achilles makes an unconscious gesture 
and ODYSSEUS pauses.) 

ACHILLES. God-born Odysseus, many- 

thoughted man, 
It seems I must deliver my whole mind. 
Or ye will nudge me to a compromise. 
Huddling about me. Hateful as HelPs gate 
Is he who keeps one story in his heart 
And on his tongue another. I must speak. 
The Grecian arguments have all been used 
And leave me unconvinced. Perpetual toil, 
The daily brunt of battle, death in all 

shapes 
And heart-consuming care (for like a bird 
That feeds her young I slaved to succor 

them) 
Have brought such thanks as cowardice 

might earn. 
The hero and the coward fare alike. 
The dawn has found me watching, and the 

day 
Rose bloody to receive me. I have warred 
In war's extremities. The sack of cities 



THE WRATH OF AGHIULES 27 

Moved like a wake behind me : yet the spoil 
The Atreidae took, and left the sweat for 

me. 
What is this war ? For Helen is it not, 
A captured woman? Do the Atreidae then 
Conceive that they alone do love their 

brides 
That my war-captnred maiden, — ^whom I 

loved, — 
They rive from me! I have been tricked, 

Odysseus : 
And in their counsels never will I come 
Nor in their deeds again. The hateful gifts 
Are nothing to my heart, nor all the gold 
Of Orchomenos, Thebes or Africa 
Though it were piled to sandy pyramids. 
Is nothing to my heart, where sits a stain 
That such things wash not off. The guarded 

treasure 
Within the Archer's rocky top of Delphi 
Is purchasable booty: but man's life 
Unpurchasably beats within his bosom. 
Bribes touch me not, Odysseus. Go ye back. 
For I myself, at dawn, am like to sail. 
Then go ye back. If ye have mind to watch, 
Ye '11 see my ships at daybreak heading out 
Towards Lemnos. 

{A pause.) 



28 HOMERIC SCENES 

PHOENIX. Achilles, canst thou brook a 

word from one — 
Old Phoenix, thy old nurse, whom Peleus 

chose 
To be thy watch-dog. Later, in the fields 
Of peace and war I taught thee manliness ; 
And conduct in the turmoil of the world. 
Thou knowest I cannot leave thee : if thou 

sail 
I sail with thee, Achilles. For these gifts, 
Count them not bribes; the great ones of 

the earth 
Accept the meed of greatness. Were they 

all,— 
If the Atreidae thought to save their spleen 
And buy thee back with gold, my voice 

should clamor. 
Bidding thee nurse thy grievance and thy 

hate. 
But there's a deeper drift when penitence 
Sues to just wrath. The gods are moved 

by prayer. 
Those gods whose virtue we but imitate, 
Through penitential act and sacrifice 
Melt toward the offender, yea, forgive his 

guilt. 
Prayers are the daughters of Almighty 

Zeus. 



THE WRATH OF AGHILiLES 29 

Withered and lame, they creep with looks 

askance 
Behind a crime, pursuing the offence. 
For anger's masterful and light of heel, 
And still outruns them toward the scathe 

of men. 
And him that heeds God's daughters they 

will heed 
When his time comes to pray. But if a 

man 

Deny the claim or turn them rudely off 

They rush to Zeus and supplicate his doom ; 

And the unpitying wretch is penalized 

To the last farthing. Yield to them, my 
son, 

For every brave man's reverence is their 

due; 
Put not to shame this journey of thy 

friends 
Whose embassy is not to save their ships 
But thee, Achilles, thee their champion. 
For, Sir, bethink thee, once the ships are 

burnt 
Thy name bums with them. Vainly mayst 

thou plunge. 
Vainly seek honor on the plains of Troy. 



30 HOMERIC SCENES 

ACHILLES. Phoenix, I seek my honor from 

the gods. 
When day shall streak the sky I launch my 

ships, 
With thee beside me : stay thou in the tent. 

AJAX. God-like Odysseus, let us leave at 

once. 
Our friends await us, and Achilles' heart 
Is pitiless. He hugs his injury. 

(To ACHILLES.) 

Many's the man who for a murdered 

brother 
Nay, for his son, has ta'en the recompense 
And let the murder die. But thee, cold man. 
The gods have filled with wrath unslakable 
Because of one chance girl. Thy friends 

are naught. 
The hearth-guests and companions of thy 

youth 
Who love thee — thou insult 'st and turn'st 

away. 

ACHILLES. Ajax, thou speakest with a 

truthful heart 
All as thou see'st. But comrade, more's 

within — 
I love thee and would honor all of you. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 31 

But then the fang of the Atreidae strikes. 
— They use me like a villain and a slave! 
And in me swells a power ye cannot sense 
That floods me like a sea. Good friends, go 

home, 
I will bethink me. Brothers of this war, 
Thus far ye win me. That if Hector come 
Raging to burn my ships beside this tent, 
I'll loose my rage and let a fury free 
Shall burn him from the earth ! 



THE WEATH OF ACHILLES. 
2. The death of patroclus^ and the new 

ARMOR. 

Scene. Outside achilles^ Tent, achilles 
Alone. 

ACHILLES. Patroclus, I have sent thee to 

the war 
And cannot aid thee. Now I find, too late, 
'Tis harder to await a battlers issue 
Than fight myself. (Calling) Briseis, girl, 

Briseis ! (Enter briseis.) 
Come there no tidings from the sandy bed 
Of old Scamander? 

BRISEIS. None, Sir. 

ACHILLES. Yet I heard 

The huddling clash of routed chariots 
And horses screaming, as they do in fright. 
It swelled upon the breeze — 

BRISEIS. But not this way. 

ACHILLES. My heart misgives me that I 
let him go. 



THE WRATH OF AGHILOLES 33 

The gods have evil days in store for us. 
My mother prophesied that while I live 
The bravest of us should by Trojan hands 
Be sent beyond the sunlight. What if he — 
Patroclus! He's no more. He's dead, 
Briseis ! 

BRisEis. Pray heaven it be not he ! 

ACHILLES. I sent him out to beat the Tro- 
jans off 

And save the ships ; but strongly counseled 
him 

Never to venture in the wider field, 

Though every god should smile and lure 
him on. 

This for his safety's sake — and for mine 
own. 

The Greeks must not be saved except 
through me. 

BRISEIS. Belike the Trojans, taking him for 

yon, 
Seeing he wore your armor — 

ACHILLES. Ay, Briseis, 

That armor! At my mother's marriage- 
feast, — 
Thetis, my mother, daughter of the sea 
Wedding the mortal Peleus, — all the gods 



34 HOMERIC SCENES 

Joined in a present to the mortal groom ; 
And that celestial armor was the gift. 

BEiSEis. Alas, if he should lose it ! 

ACHILLES. He will not 

Think to be eminent apart from me ; 
Nor must he play the hero by himself. 
He is my shadow and mine inner soul; 
I love him as that softer part of me 
That's lost, except in him. And would to 

heaven 
That Zeus, Athena, and far-darting Phoe- 
bus 
Might slaughter every Trojan, and let rot 
Every Greek soldier on the Asian shore, 
That he and I, alone escaping death, 
Might plant the banner on Troy's battle- 
ments 
And end the war alone ! 

BEISEIS. good Patroclus, 

Dear to the slave-girl was thy gentleness ! 
Upon the day my father's city fell 
Three brothers saw I perish in an hour ; 
The husband they had given me, pierced 

with bronze 
Lay in the gateway. Him Achilles slew. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 35 

Yet thou, Patroclus, would 'st not let me 

mourn, 
But toldst me I should be Achilles' bride; 
Thou'dst burn a torch upon my wedding 

day 
In happy Phthia ! — I bless the thought of 

thee; 
For ever wast thou gentle with the weak. 

ACHILLES. Hush, girl ! I hear a messenger. 
{Enter antilochus.) 

Out with thy business, man ! How goes the 
war? 

ANTiLocHus. Sou to wisc-liearted Peleus, 
great Achilles, — 

ACHILLES. Thy news? 

ANTiLocHus. Thou 'It grieve to hear it. 

ACHILLES. And Patroclus — 

ANTiLocHus. Lies dead upon the field ; the 

battle burns 
About his naked body. 

ACHILLES. And the armor — 

ANTiLocHus. Is held by Hector of the 
dancing plume. 



36 rio:\rERic scenes 

ACHILLES. Now may the gods burn incense 

to themselves 
I'll no more trust them! Is the armor 

gone? 

ANTiLocHus. Listeu, Achilles: — Thou 

did'st send him forth 
Arrayed in gleaming armor like the sun, 
Thy father's gear; and as Patroclus 

plunged 
Across the Trojan plain, thy Myrmidons 
Mowed the thick ranks of Ilian chivalry 
And slew what panic left them ; for the rout 
Fled to the doors of Troy. He, not content. 
But moving on the whirlwind of his fate 
Mounts the black wall; and would have 

ta'en the town, — 

ACHILLES. I did forbid him to approach 
the town! 

ANTiLocHus. Thricc doth his fury scale 

the battlement 
And Troy had fallen then ; but that Apollo, 
Rising behind the rampart, beats him back. 

''Off!" shouts the angry god, " 'Tis not 

for thee 
To capture Ilium, nor for him behind thee, 
Thy master great Achilles, Peleus' son." 



THE WRATH OF ACHILI.ES 37 

With that the eyes of the god roll terribly ; 
He smites Patroclus with the flat of his 

hand, 
Thus. The helmet rolls along the ground, 
The spear in splinters falls, the corslet's 

rent, 
And poor Patroclus stands 
Rocked by an earthquake. Sick, he leaves 

the field. 
Hemmed by his friends, and while he stag= 

gers thus 
Comes Hector with a band of Dardan youth 
And runs him through the unresisting body. 

ACHILLES. And I not there ! 

ANTiLocHUs. Your horses hung their heads 
To hide the tear-drops with their streaming 

mane 
To see his fall. 
The armor Hector took, and donned it 

straight. 
Leaving the body to a short-lived rescue. 
For ere our friends could lug it half a rood, 
Back swooped the Trojans in a ragged 

horde. 
And stayed us for a fight. From our side 

now 



38 HOMERIC SCENES 

Rushed to the rescue every warrior ; 
And round the body rose the clang of war, 
And dust of the contending combatants, 
And mist of black miasma sent by Zeus 
To hide the blind and bloody controversy, 
Which for twelve hours beneath a blazing 

sun — 
For all was bright upon the dazzling plain, 
Except the moving frenzy where this cloud 
Dragged its black banners streaming to the 

sky, 
With howls of dying men about the field. 
And rolled the dizzy fighters in the dust ; 
Till by the act of Zeus the Greeks pre- 
vailed, — 
Ajax and Ajax fending Hector off. 
And all the rest dragging the abject body, 
Stained by the blood of many warriors 
Besides its own. Thus fleeing, thus they 

came 
Like a disordered flock of little birds 
Before the hawk. So went Patroclus forth ; 
So he returned. 

ACHILLES. {To BKISEIS and ANTILOCHUS.) 

Why hold ye me and hang upon my hands ? 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 39 

BRisEis. Lest thou shalt do thy life a vio- 
lence 
Through access of despair. 

ACHILLES. No fear, no fear. 

My doom was written on the firmament 
Ere we set out ; but his was not foretold. 

I have sent the dearest soul to death 
That ever friend betrayed! Couldst thou 

not wait, 
But thou must rush to an heroic end, 
Outrunning mine? fools that trust the 

gods 
Who, in commingling with the race of men 
Play with them merely, and our hearts 

must pay 
The joys they cheat us with. What rage 

' I had 
God-like and self-sustaining as the sun! 
Zeus nods and I must crack. tender 

heart ! 
Patroclus, mj companion, our one saint 
Among the band of ruffians, silly words 

1 told thy father — how I'd fetch thee home 
Safe to Opoeis after Troy was sacked. 
Now both of us shall redden the same soil. 
Thou first, I soon : a single golden urn 
Shall house the mingled ashes of our bones 



40 HOMERIC SCENES 

And thus I'll repossess thee. The same 

mound 
Shall be our sepulchre, and mariners, 
Bounding this windy corner of the sea. 
Shall tell the traveler ''Friend, behold the 

cairn, 
Achilles ' and Patroclus ' resting-place ; 
Troy lay beyond. ' ' 

Thy burial shall be rich ! 
For to the gods above I dedicate 
Twelve noble Trojan youths upon thy pyre 
To bloody slaughter. Hector's head I'll 

bring — 
Thy murderous slayer's — and the golden 

arms — 
— Whose body shall be given to the dogs. 
And thou shalt lie in long-remembered state 
Surrounded by the wail of captive slaves. 
Deep-breasted Trojan women, and our own. 
Gold, incense, plunder, riches I have drawn 
From all the Asian cities shall be piled 
About thee, my Patroclus, and thy soul 
Shall be attended with such obsequies 
As roll with kings toward Hades. Gaunt 

Death!— 
On-stalking shadow of the world beneath, — 
And thou above, great, smiling, heartless 

Zeus, — 



THE WRATH OF ACHILiLES 41 

Grant to Achilles but one torch of life 

To kindle the great pyre, and then let Fate 

Swiftly enclose him. 

ANTiLocHus. What! wilt thou fight again? 

ACHILLES. I, fight, young man ! 

ANTILOCHUS. Thou'lt lead the Achaians to 

the siege once more? 
May I report it so ? 

ACHILLES. Lo now, he understands not. 

Know'st thou not 
Achilles is the war? Tell it the Atreidae. 
And let them call a council of the chiefs 
Whereat I shall renounce my grievances. 
Swear brotherhood, and after on the altars 
Burn to the witnessing gods a sacrifice. 
With solemn pourings for the mutual bond. 
The poison's cured in me, in thee, in them. 
The gods cast rabid Ate out of heaven 
Because the fury plagued them ; now man- 
kind 
Catch the infatuate vixen's fell disease 
And rend themselves to rags. The war's 

resumed. 
Tell the Atreidae that the war begins. 
I am the war. 



42 HOMERIC SCENES 

{Exit ANTiLocHUs. BRisEis goes into the 
tent.) 

mother, mother, fatal was that feast! 

Would thou hadst wed an ocean deity, 

And Peleus some shore-maiden, like him- 
self, 

Mortal and earthy; so this splintered soul, 

Unequal mixture of mortality 

With godhead, had not lived unfit for life. 

And died untimely. Him that was my 
friend 

And understood me, — when like boys we'd 
sit 

Chatting apart for hours, — they have killed. 

{Enter at the back thetis.) 

THETIS. My child, why dost thou weep? 

What suffering 
Touches thy heart? Speak, and hide 

nothing, dear. 
Are not the Greeks, as Zeus did promise me, 
Walled with their ships, because they 

slighted thee ? 
ACHILLES. Mother, they've killed Patro- 

clus. That dear head 
Is gone forever. And thy marriage gift 

divine, 



THE WRATH OF ACHIDLES 43 

The heavenly armor's lost! On Hector's 

back — 
Whence I will rive it for the funeral 
Of my beloved. 

THETIS. my blessed child, 

Swift is thy fate; for after Hector's death 
Thine own must follow. 

ACHILLES. Would that I had died 

Or e'er I lost him, died defending him, 
Died in some blaze of honor at the wall. 
Instead of sitting like a lump of earth. 
I — I — the best of them, the warrior. 
But wrath's like trickling honey in the 

throat; 
It mounts like incense to the incensed 

brain ; 
Delirium's in it. Now the fit is by, 
I must fight Hector. Even Heracles, 
The Darling son of Zeus, might not shun 

death, 
The noose of time and Hera's jealousy 
Subdued him. When my meted hour shall 

sound, — 
may it find me in the f oughten field ; 
That Trojan wives may feel the martial 

hand 



44 HOMERIC SCENES 

That sweeps their lords away. Dissuade 

me not; 
For my determination is to fight. 

THETIS. Nay, but dear child, indeed it's no 

disgrace 
To shield a danger 'd friend from dreadful 

death. 
Thine arms are gone; yet Hector keeps 

them not 
Forever, for the doom is over him. 

{She turns and produces the new armor.) 

Here have I brought thee more. The cun- 
ning Wright 

Hephaestus, forged them for my godlike 
boy 

That runs to war. For headstrong is the 
lad. 

And in his babyhood his eye would shine 

If he but saw a sword. 

ACHILLES. Ah, you will let me go ! 
THETIS. The gods so order it. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES. 

3. Thersites on the Great Reconciliation. 

Scene. Outside Ac^ijjL.es' Tent. (Enter 
thersites.) 

thersites. I have had the best meal since 
coming to Troy; and have shook hands 
with the heroes. Now for a chat with 
Briseis, — a modest maid, and next to Helen 
the cause of most trouble among the im- 
mortal villains of this villainous war. 
(Calling,) Briseis, Briseis, I say! (Enter 

BRISEIS.) 

BRisEis. Who calls ? — Away, Thersites ! 
Peleus' son will return and belabor thee 
with the tent-pin. Remember thy welts! 

thersites. I have not laughed so heartily 
since Agamemnon hurt his leg! Pshaw, 
wench, the heroes are safe drunk for three 
hours yet. Peleus' son hangs on the 
Atreidae, and paws them and pours liquor 
down's waistcoat. Have you not heard of 
the great reconcilement? Zeus left off his 



46 HOMERIC SCENES 

thundering and came to smell the fat. The 
Assembly, the great Assembly! — Every 
steward and camp follower — with skewers 
in their hands, and sweating like black 
Egyptians, — ran to the love-gathering; 
and the lords limped, every man with his 
physician behind him. ^^Not so fast, good 
sir! Eemember your wounds, my lord!" 
Diomed hath a cracked ankle. Odysseus 
is gored by Trojan bulls. Agamemnon 
comes with the cramp-crawl, Euripylus 
with an arrow in's thigh, — groaning all. 
But the rout was such a gathering of ver- 
min as never crawled out of Miletus. 

BEisEis. How mean you? 

THERsiTES. Why, those that have lain hid 
during the hot weather of battle now 
sprawl every one to get a peep at the great 
Achilles, Peleus' son, you have heard of 
him? 

Well, the Grecians were never seen to- 
gether before, — most of them with towels 
in their hands, — stewards and pot-boys 
and friends to the camp, the chorus in the 
Greek comedy. Filth, sirs! and the off- 
scourings of Hellas. And in the front row 
of the assembly sat the demi-gods ; though 



THE WRATH OF ACHIDLES 47 

these couldn't stand np, but leaned thns 
with dignity on their staves, and cocked 
their broken legs at one another like trage- 
dians. Now then, Achilles stands himself 
in the midst, — for he was the only divinely- 
begotten hero of them all whose legs would 
function; — and it did him good, too, to 
stretch himself after his long, sacred, 
gloomy, godlike and somewhat monotonous 
wrath. 

I have not laughed so hard since Odys- 
seus forgot his ploughing and found his 
wits. Achilles now, in the midst of all, 
proclaims a silence, and says, says he, '^I 
never cared for the girl at all any way.'' 

BEisEis. What girl, Thersites? 

THEKsiTES. Why thee, thou fool. ^^ Would 
she had died," said Achilles, ^^ would she 
had died the day I sacked Lurnessos ; so had 
I never said a word against my good friend 
Agamemnon, my dear brothers, the Atrei- 
dae, my lords and leaders here, whom be- 
fore heaven and in the face of these camp- 
followers I love and honor as the parents 
who nursed me. " ^ ^ It 's all along of Zeus, ' ' 
cries Agamemnon, and tells an auld wives' 
tale of Hera and Ate and Hercules and the 



48 HOMERIC SCENES 

twelve labors of Teiresias' Jackass, till 
Odysseus mops his brow and whispers 
Menelaus ^^ Let's back to the fighting to 
wake us up ! " 

' ' It was all a dream, ' ' says Achilles, ' ' and 
the gods are to blame for what has taken 
place." '^ Let's eat," says Odysseus, ^^ Let's 
fight," says Achilles, ^^ Let's worship the 
gods and magnify them forever," shout 
the skewer-carriers. ^^Let him swear 
first," says Odysseus, ^^that the maid 
Briseis is as pure as the snow from Mount 
Ida before the spring freshets." ^^Ay, 
Agamemnon must swear that!" says 
Achilles, ^'or I'll have his blood." 

BRISEIS. Me, mean you? 

THERsiTEs. Av, thee, wench. Thou art the 
cause of all, under Zeus and the rest of re- 
ligion. Thou art the cause. 

BRISEIS. And what answered Agamemnon? 

THERSITES. Swore like a gentleman, 
wench. Faith, he was in the swearing 
mood: he'd have sworn anything. 

BRISEIS. What did he say? 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 49 

THEESiTES. Say? ^^By the gods below," 
says he, ^ ' and by the ever-living night, the 
mother of wicked thoughts ; by the revolv- 
ing sun and the devolving planets, who see 
all ; by Asia, and the Pleiades, I swear that 
the said Briseis, the house-maid, is a bar- 
barian woman, she does not interest me, 
she has never drawn my eyes for a mo- 
ment. Or may Hades suck me down ! 

BRISEIS. He swore to that? 

THERsiTES. Laugh, wench,^ it's the only 
way. These be heroes. 

Then they fetched a pig and prayed 
mightily, standing by the loud crashing 
ocean's waves. And Menelaus held the pig, 
and Odysseus, drawing a rusty knife, cuts 
him off three hairs from the nether-lip on 
the nor' west side of the jaw; and drawing 
his voice from his nethermost belly, says 
he: ^^In the name of Zeus, Amen!" — 
While all sat by in fitting silence. And 
then with eyes up-lift to heaven he scatters 
the hairs on the fire, and adds salt and 
flour meal; and then all shout at once. 
Then spake Achilles, holding his eye thus : 
' ' Father Zeus, great are the delusions thou 



50 HOMERIC SCENES 

sendest on mankind." At this I cracked 
my jerkin and laid hold of seven scullions 
to choke my laughing, — for I'd not miss 
a word. So Achilles prayed eloquently for 
about seven minutes, and laid all upon the 
gods ; and then Agamemnon seized the boar 
by the hind leg and flung him sea-ward, 
and all cried ^^ Supper!" and I left them 
pouring libations. And I left them drunk, 
all except Achilles, who went to ponder 
the corpse of Patroclus. He's for neither 
eating nor drinking till he has caught 
twelve young noble Trojans, — fat ones, he 
says, — and slain them in the holiness of 
his self-sacrifice on the pyre of his beloved. 
And Hector — Hector's to be fed to the 
dogs, if they can catch him. Nay, tak't 
not so seriously, good Briseis. This is war. 
Hast thou ever a cup of something about 
the tent? I cannot drink decently at their 
beastly sacrifices. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES. 

4. The Death of Hector and the Sacri- 
fice OF Lykaon. 

Scene. Before the Tent of achilles. 

{Enter a Greek soldier ivith five young 
Trojan prisoners hound. One of these is 

LYKAON.) 

SOLDIER. Ho there, who's within! Auto- 

medon ! 
I come from Peleus ' son ! 

automedon. {Entering from the tent.) 
What tidings dost thou bring? 

SOLDIER. Achilles charges thee to leave 

these bound, 
And let them lie in heaps, like panting kids 
Eipe for the knife. These five make up the 

twelve 
With whom he '11 fatten up the ritual flame 
About Patroclus' corpse. They're well de- 
scended 



52 HOMERIC SCENES 

From Trojan princes and old demi-gods. 

AUTOMEDON. I shall obey. {Calls) Briseis! 

{Enter BBis^is.) 

RBisEis. More sad faces — 
But these are almost children. 

SOLDIER. It's his thought 

To slay all men ; but as a sacrifice 
Offer the merest youths. 

LYKAON. Killed in cold blood by this un- 
pitying man ! 

AUTOMEDON. {To BRISEIS.) 

Confine them with the rest. 

LYKAON. Shall we be killed? 

BRISEIS. Perchance the kindling heavens 
will melt his heart. 

LYKAON. Do but untie our hands, gentle 

Briseis. 
How can I clasp him as a suppliant 
And hold his knees, unless my hands be 

free? 

AUTOMEDON. If he shall find the manacles 

unloosed 
He'll kill thee in his fit. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 53 

BRisEis. And if he do ? 

Think 'st thou, Antomedon, I care for life? 
My youngest brother was as this boy's twin, 
His eyes as heavy, like the trusting fawn's. 
Him I saw slaughtered by the edge of 

bronze. 
I'll loose the lad to supplicate Achilles, 
For all his roaring. 

(automedon^ BRISEIS and the prisoners 
go into the tent. Exit soldier. Enter aga- 

MEMNON^ AJAX and ODYSSEUS.) 

ODYSSEUS. I lost him in the fray. Here at 

his tent 
There may be news. This tumult of the 

sky 
And the river floods, that make the plain 

a sea, 
Have routed us again. The son of Peleus 
Fights on alone, but where or how I know 

not. 

{Enter antilochus, hurriedly and out of 
breath.) 

antilochus. My lords, I've sought you 
long — 

AJAX, How goes the war ? 



54 HOMERIC SCENES 

ANTiLOCHus. Changed from a contest be- 
tween mortal powers 
To the dark strife of gods. Achilles' rage 
Found the Scamander in his path of war 
All choked with fleeing Trojans. In he 

wades, 
Reddening the waters with the scythe of 

bronze ; 
And flings the bodies to the fishy deeps, 
Till foam and blood and dead men fill the 

stream, 
And the offended river-god, half smothered 
To find such loathed obstruction in his 

veins, 
Swells them with draughts of torrents from 

the crags 
And sky-fed cataracts. The boiling flood 
Rolls seaward, like a sea, to break the dam. 
Achilles braves the surge: it masters him. 
He flees : the angry river over-rolls him ; 
And but that Hera saved him — 

Ay, but then 
The heavens grew black, the gods them- 
selves took part; 
Hera, Athena, Artemis and Ares 
Stalked o'er the field, — unearthly bellow- 
ings. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 55 

As of ten thousand bulls, and piercing 

shrieks, 
Immortal, horrid! — while the giant forms 
Making our pigmy warriors seem like mice, 
Loomed through the murk ; and on the echo- 
ing plain 
Bolt after shining bolt was cast by Zeus 
Through night and blindness. 'Twas the 

judgment day. 
Troy's fate is sealed; 'twas settled there 

above, 
And these convulsions are her agony. 
All's ruled from Heaven. 

AJAX. Here comes a warrior. 
(Enter a messenger.) 

What of the fight, man? Is Achilles safe? 

MESSENGER. Ay, hc's safe. 

AJAX. But where and how? What else? 

MESSENGER. Hector lies slain beneath 
Achilles hand. 

ALL. Hector slain ! 

AJAX. Hector is slain? Why then the war's 
at end ! 



56 HOMERIC SCENES 

MESSENGER. I know not that: but this I 

saw: — 
It was the saddest death e'er chronicled 
Since wars began. His gods deserted him ; 
He standing thus, with unprotesting eye. 
Receives the stroke of fate. 'Twas terrible. 

AJAX. How, tell us how ! 

MESSENGER. First comes Achilles raging 

from the ford, 
All Troy before him. These within the 

walls 
Are safely clapped. But Hector stays with- 
out, 
Against all clamors from the battlements 
Whence Priam, the old king, and Hecuba 
Fling him pathetic prayers and supplica- 
tions 
To come inside. He bides Achilles' swoop : 
Yea for a time, but when the god-inspired 
And blazing might of Peleus' wrathful child 
Beamed on him fully. Hector turned and 

fled. 
Thrice round the walls of Troy — like some 

bad dream 
Where the pursuer cannot catch his prey 
Nor it escape — the agony went round. 
Without or gain or loss. The gods above 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 57 

Stood in amaze; 'twas awful. Then great 

Zeus 
Holding his scales aloft, throws in the lots 
For all to view, and Hector's sinks in the 

scale. 
Now all turns pageant. Hector sees his 

end; 
And great Achilles, motioning to us 
To launch no javelins, moves upon the prey, 
Choosing the life-spot with a practised eye. 
Falls his great sword on Hector's yielding 

neck. 
And so he dies. 

ODYSSEUS. But spoke not — 

MEssENGEK. Ycs. With a sad and glassy 

calm, his eye. 
Measuring the slayer, ^^Ever wast thou 

cruel, ' ' 
Saith dying Hector. ^' Thou 'It remember 

me 
When thou see'st Paris and the god Apollo, 
The day death takes at the Skaian Gate." 
Achilles nods and mutters, calls his men ; — 
'Tis best you know it soon. He comes this 

way! 

ODYSSEUS. Brings he the body with him? 



58 HOMERIC SCENES 

MESSENGER. Aj, that's it ! 

AJAX. That's it, but how? 

MESSENGER. With thongs he pierced the 

fallen hero's feet, 
And leaping in the chariot, huddles in 
The rescued arms; then, shouting to the 

steeds. 
Drives like a madman o'er the dizzy plain. 
Dragging the corpse of Hector. 

AJAX. What, a Greek 

And with unmanly frenzy maim the dead ! 
Achilles mangle Hector ! 

MESSENGER. All his locks 

Bedraggled, all his godly features gone, — 
Defaced in undecipherable ruin. 
Priam and Hecuba upon the walls 
Rending their scanty locks beheld the crime, 
Whose author, our great captain, — 

AJAX. But he comes ! 

I hear the clank of him. 

{Enter achilles^ bloody, begrimed, and 
terrible. As he enters he is speaking to a 
warrior who follows him.) 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 59 

ACHILLES. Bestow the body: let the army 

see it ; 
That every soldier may anoint his sword 
In the carrion, ere I chop it for the dogs. 

ODYSSEUS. {To ACHiLLEs) MetMnks the time 
is come for consultation. 

ACHILLES. Odysseus, thou'rt a fool! 

AJAX. So am not I, Achilles ! 

AGAMEMNON. Nor I ! 

AJAX. For shame Achilles thus to treat a 

foe! 
The noble kindly Hector ! It's unmeet 
And horrible ; the gods will punish it. 

ACHILLES. Both gods and men will do their 

uttermost, 
No doubt; no doubt, good Ajax. To your 

tents. 
Commanders ! 

AJAX. To our tents, good Peleus' son? 

Art thou grown king, and must we kiss thy 

foot? 
Thou shameless and barbarian conqueror ! 
I tell thee. Hector was a noble foe, 
And not deserved such treatment. 



60 HOMERIC SCENES 

ACHILLES. Men in war 

Deserve what they receive. What knowest 

thou? 
This Hector slew Patroclus, in whose death 
My life is stabbed beyond all mortal probe. 
Now lies Patroclus yonder. Had I heard 
That Peleus, my old father, had been slain, 
Yea thou, my son, my Neoptolemus, 
That waitest my return in rocky Skyros, 
And never shalt behold me, — hadst thoit 

died 
'Twould less have cut me than the empty 

tent. 
Ajax, look yonder. In that broken armor 
Perished my life. But come, my vows are 

due. 
Patroclus, mark, the tale of death is full; 
All that I promised, — thou shalt have them 

all! 
Go home, good Ajax ; get thee to thy tent. 
I must fulfill a sacrificial vow. 

{Exeunt agamemnon, ajax and odys- 

SEUS.) 

Briseis, are the prisoners safely kept? 

BEisEis. Yes. 

ACHILLES. Set the lamp by the couch. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 61 

BKisEis. I will, my lord. 

(Exit BEISEIS.) 

ACHILLES. I cannot sleep; but I will rest 

awhile. 
All dead. My home was here but yester- 
day. 
Now all the joy and comfort of return 
Mock me from the ashes. When I thought 

of death 
'Twas of my own, — ^how thou shouldst 

bury me, 
And having heaped a mound and breathed 

a prayer, 
Shouldst steer Achilles' spirit back to 

Phthia, 
To teach my son ; how thou shouldst fetch 

the lad. 
And show him all the glories of our house, 
Telling him stories of his ancestors 
And the great days at Troy. I know not 

why,— 
A fit of weeping's on me. 

(achilles is about to recline on the rugs, 
when LYKAON enters running and clasps his 
knees,) 



62 HOMERIC SCENES 

LYKAON. Mercy! Have mercy, divine 

Achilles, 
A suppliant that has eaten of thy food! 
Thou canst not kill me : in the eyes of Zeus 
I am a prisoner, old Priam's son. 
Lykaon is my name, I ate thy salt 
When thou didst capture me a year ago 
And soldst me as a slave. hast thou not 
A father or a son! Thou hast a son! 
Mercy ! A suppliant ! Mercy ! 

ACHILLES. Thee ! Hector's brother? Spare 

thee, thou young snake ! 
I will exterminate the nest of you. 

LYKAON. Only half-brother: his half- 
brother only! 

ACHILLES. I was all mercy till Patroclus 
died; 

Now I'm all steel. Come friend! Tut, tut, 
my boy. 

Death is not dreadful. Death's a deity. 

Patroclus dies, — a better man than thou. 

See'st thou how big and strong I am my- 
self, — 

Born of a hero, mothered by a nymph ; — 

Yet must I die, at dawn, at noon, at eve, 

When Ares sends a summoning javelin, 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 63 

Or great Apollo from his singing bow 
Looses the shaft that finds my heart its 
home. 

(achilles silently delivers lykaon to 
BKisEis^ on whose shoulder the boy falls 
iveeping, briseis and lykaon enter the 
tent.) 

Would that the spicy beams of Priam's 

chamber 
Had been the kindling ! I will lift a blaze 
To dim the moon, — ^while men in Samo- 

thrace 
Think Troy's afire. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES. 

5. The Ghost of Patroclus : Priam and 
Achilles. 

Scene. Inside achilles^ Tent, achilles 
alone.' Enter a servant. 

SERVANT. son of PgIguSj most divine 

Achilles, 
The Atreidae and the army send thee 

thanks 
As to a god for their deliverance. 

achilles. Let them thank Zeus. 

SERVANT. They do: only attending 

Thy presence at the feast. 

ACHILLES. I'm for no feast. 

Tell them I neither eat nor drink nor wash 

nor sleep 
While that the ceremonial of my love 
Lies unfulfilled. Around Patroclus' bier 
At sunrise for twelve days I hale the corse 
Of Hector at my heaven-born horses' heels. 
By night I weep ; by day I pace the sea. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 65 

Say every wound of war and dirt of battle 
Lies freshly on me; — 'tis my wedding ray- 

ment, 
And these, my nuptials. Ask the generals 
If such a man would grace their festival, 
And bid them eat without me. 

(Exit servant.) 

They're for home 
For Argos, Athens, Ithaca they're off. 
This war's played to an end, and all the 

actors 
Disband exultingly. — There's prey enough; 
Women, gold, tapestry, tripods ; Troy was 

rich. 
They've but to eat, to pillage and depart. 
For me there's no beyond. 
His body is laid up in precious drugs, 
And when the fiery column takes the breeze 
My life goes up with it. My head is heavy ; 
But if I close my eyes I'm fighting Hector. 
'Twas a long day. 

(He lies down on a pile of rugs. Enter 
the Ghost of patroclus and stands at the 
back, behind the sleeping achilles.) 
PATROCLUS. Comrade, thou sleepest. Is that 
friend forgot 



66 HOMERIC SCENES 

Whom living, thou wast ever tender of? 
'Tis I, Patroclus. Brother, bury me, 
That I may pass the porch of Hades' Halls ; 
For now I wander, and the eager shades 
Prevent me at the river. Reach thy hand ! 
If once the fire touch me, I am gone. 
Ah, playmate, all our sweet old intercourse 
Is ended. Fate hath ope'd his jaws on me: 
I 'm lost, Achilles ! Dost thou mind the time 
Thy father first received me in his home? 
Peleus, old horseman Peleus, took me in 
To be his boy's companion, — little recking 
How soon one urn should hide the dust of 

both. 
And he receive it in his trembling hands. 
Achilles, — dost not know me, my Achilles? 

(Vanishes.) 

ACHILLES. (In his sleep.) 
Thou comest, thou brother to my heart, 
Bidding me do my very purposes. 
Fear not: IVe promised thee! 
But can'st thou not embrace me, brother 
dear? 

(Wakes.) 
Patroclus, my Patroclus ! All night long 
Patroclus stood beside me, urging me 



THE WRATH OF AOHILI^ES 67 

About his burial ; — in looks, his very self, — 
Weeping to break his heart, beseeching me. 
But when I thought to fold him in my arms 
He uttered a thin wailing, and sank back 
Under the earth. — heaven, in Hades' 

Halls 
Be souls and images ; but for the mind. 
No trace of it ! By Zeus, it's horrible ! 
Sleep is the danger : I must watch all night. 
And rest while waking. 

{He seats himself.) 

When my father learns 
How I am widowed, he will die of grief ; 
No news of me, and my good angel gone. 
My father, Peleus, that old sacred man. 
To die without my kiss ! I leaped away 
To where Fame beckoned. 
And flung no glance behind. father dear 
Thy pang hath followed me. 

{He has covered his face with his hands, 
and when he takes them away, priam is 
kneeling before him, clasping his knees,) 

ACHILLES. The Ghost of Priam now! 

Father Zeus 
Protect me from these spirits of the dead 



68 HOMERIC SCENES 

That torture me. I killed thee not, old man ! 
Hades doth walk the earth ! 

PRIAM. Eemember the old knight, divine 

Achilles, 
Thy father, Peleus, sunk in the slough of 

years. 
Tormented by his neighbors, sick, alone, 
Unf ended and unloved. Thou are alive ; 
And hourly all daj^ long he longs for thee. 
And thy homecoming from the dreadful 

war. 
I am a wretched man, broken and old : 
Many brave sons were born in Troy to me 
But none like Hector; — ^whom these mur- 
derous hands 
Slew as he strove to save his fatherland. 
( Would 'st thou do likewise?) For the 

body's ransom 
Is Priam come, old Priam Hector's father 
And King of Troy, — the wretchedest of 

men, 
And yet the boldest ; for what father yet 
Dared to lift up his fingers to the beard 
Of him that slew his son? For Peleus' sake 
Give me the body of my boy, Achilles, 
That I may lay my cheek against his body, 



THE WRATH OF ACHILJ.ES 69 

And pay the gods their due. I bring thee 

wealth, 
The deepest riches from Troy's treasury, 
In honorable ransom for the dead. 

{He raises his hands toivard the face of 
ACHILLES and remains motionless,) 

ACHILLES. Alas, old man, what sorrows 
hast thou known ! 

And dost thou come alone, at night, un- 
armed 

To me that killed thy many noble sons ? 

Thy heart's of steel. But there's no cure 
for grief, 

Which Zeus inculcates into human hearts. 

Compelling us to live and live in pain. 

Peleus was happy, famous, rich and wise; 

The gods brought gifts unstinted to his 
home. 

Gave him a bride from heaven. His only 
lack 

Was children : but a single son had he ; — 

And in that son more sorrow than the world 

Can countervail with all its luxury. 

Thou too in the world's eye wast eminent; 

Thy Kingdom was the envy of the earth ; 

Thy sons and daughters like a diadem 



70 HOMERIC SCENES 

Crowned the whole region; — Priam's sons 

and daughters 
Were glory's glory, Troy's embellishment. 
But lo, the heavenly power intervenes, 
And fills thy land with battle. Nay desist ; 
Thy fate's the common one, desist, old man. 
Thy sorrow cannot raise him up again, 
Nor keep back new despair. 
Sit in my seat and comfort thee awhile ; 
The sword that pierces thee is in my heart : 
One fate unites us. 

PRIAM. Nay, thou son of Heaven, 

I'll not be set upon thy household throne, 
While Hector lies neglected in the pen ! 
Give me the hodj first, and take the gifts. 
Thou didst not kill me erst, nor canst not 
now! 

ACHILLES. Beware, old man ! Myself doth 
set him free ; 

Not Priam and the gifts. Heaven hath pur- 
chased him. 

Not thy beseechment! 

The mind of Zeus to staunch my mother's 
tears 

Sent Hermes to thine aid, and brings thee 
here 



THE WKATH OF ACHILLES 71 

Through bolts and bars and dangers mani- 
fest, 

God-guided to my tent. The power behind 

Shines through thee, foolish Priam. Vex 
me not. 

Lest I dishonor God by killing thee ! 

( PRIAM trembles and remains on the 
ground.) 

ACHILLES. ( Calling. ) Automedon ! 

{Enter automedon.) 
Waits a strange chariot by the palisade! 
AUTOMEDON. There does, my lord. 

ACHILLES. Fetch it inside: unload the 

precious gifts. 
And stow them safely. Next, take Hector's 

body, 
Wash and anoint, and in a linen sheet 

wind it securely, — that he see it 

not. 
Before he reach his home. Call me again 
I'll lift it to the chariot myself. 
Forgive me, my beloved, if in Hades 
'Tis whispered that I sent thy murderer 

home. 



72 HOMERIC SCENES 

Heaven doth control me; — and the gifts I 

take 
Are thine too, — thine too, ever. 

{To PKIAM.) 

Old man, the sons of Heaven have smiled 

on thee : 
Thy embassy's accomplished. Eosy dawn 
Shall speed the golden wheels that hurry 

thee, 
With Hector in thine arms to Hecuba. 
And there with joy and grief you'll bury 

him; 
And Troy shall weep, and incense shall go 

up; 
A funeral that fits his royal breed 
Shall Hector have. But now, Sir, you 

must eat. 

{He signs to automedoist to bring food 
and drink.) 

Niobe lost twelve children in a day. 

And yet the legend says she ate and drank. 

The golden rain from haughty Phoebus' 

bow 
Followed her boast. ^^For," said she, ''I 

have twelve, 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES 73 

And Leto liath but two." The gods are 
gods 

And slay us for a whim. Our life is tears, 

Yet must we eat. And thou, divine old 
man, 

Comfort thyself in kindness. Here is wine 

To glad the hero's heart that's in thy 
breast ; 

And thou shalt sleep beneath the firma- 
ment; 

A couch of fleecy coverings have I laid, 

Lamb's wool as dainty as Diana's coif, 

With woven cloth and plundered tapes- 
tries. 

Beneath the stars, I say ; 

For should my friends, the Atreidae, nose 
thee out 

Those lords of war, whose wisdom tutors 
mine 

With generous counsel, — 'tis their privi- 
lege : — 

I fear they'd break our bargain. 

PRIAM. Great Achilles 

Thou art more large than Hector, — not 

more fair; 

But godlike, godlike. Thou art like a 

planet ! 



74 HOMERIC SCENES 

Thine eye's a moon; each hand a continent. 
There's an illumination in thy look 
Bodes a beyond — 

ACHILLES. 'Tis Hades, Hades, father, 

Shining through earthly limbs of natural 

clay,— 
The light from Ehadamanthus ' dark abode 
And Pluto's gemmy glare. 
The shadows of the dead abide with me. 
And things that in my childhood were but 

dreams 
Walk in the day. Thou feastest with a 

man 
Who dies to-morrow. Ay, thou too, thou 

too! 
Dost stalk amongst us, Priam, with thine 

eyes 
Staring as though the eyeballs were of 

glass, 
And thou a bloody image ! Nay, good sir. 
Good ancient Priam, eat thy meal in peace ; 
Thy host's unmanned with fighting and 

with grief. 
Eat, eat thy fill, and while thou sleepest 

sound, 
I'll weep again. 'Tis only weeping cures 

me. 



THE WRATH OF ACHILLES. 

6. Thetis Speaks. 

Scene. The body of achilles, clad in 
armor y lies on a low bier. The helmet rests 
on the ground, thetis is discovered be- 
side the bier. 

THETIS. Thou wast my wedding-gift, 

Achilles, dear. 
When the gods forced me to a mortal's 

couch 
The lackeys of Olympus laughed at Peleus; 
But me, made mortal by the gift of thee, 
They knew not, thought not of: they saw 

me not 
Thus blindly dowered with glory, life and 

pain. 
thou great boy of the world, divine 

Achilles, 
Pierced by Hyperion's shaft! — I heard thy 

cry. 
Thus ever came I, Thetis, from the sea. 
Thy mother and thy goddess and thy slave. 



76 HOMERIC SCENES 

Unchanged thou art, as when thine infant 

lip 
Would swell in anger, and thine eye blaze 

out 
With lightning from Olympus. Ah, my 

child. 
Thy short life leaves a glory in the world ; 
And sea-born Thetis comes to guard thy 

tomb 
Beside the smiting music of the ocean. 
Where thou didst pace the sands and call 

on her 
In the great days of Troy. 



—THE END- 



LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS 




